My Prince

I have become very cautious of writing about men on this blog. I hate writing about someone and then the following week they are gone, but I have found someone who has become very special to me in a very short time, and I’m dying to spill the beans. Grab your barf bags, because I going to get sappy. I can’t help it. This one does that to me. In the post before this one, you may noticed that I was getting pretty disgusted by the opposite sex. I always prided myself on keeping an open heart and not allowing myself to become jaded, but I think little icicles were starting to form. Back in the day when a man was acting less than gentlemanly, I’d laugh it off and continue chatting … I stopped doing that shit. I started standing my ground once I concluded that these men weren’t worth my time or the dignity I lost by sharing space with them. Life is too short to breathe the same air as a mysoginist fucktard who thinks a woman’s only purpose is to look hot in a selfie. Besides, who do these guys think they are with their receding hairlines, dad bods, and exorbitant child support payments? Fuck no.

I wanted more. And though I had hoped that I’d find it, I also had to accept that I might not. I’d have to make peace with the loneliness. I’d have to be okay that all the love in my heart might never be shared. It wasn’t okay, but I knew I’d have to put on my big girl panties and deal with it. I wasn’t going to give up, but I wasn’t going to settle.

And when I started to let go of my dream, to love and be loved by someone I respected and admired, it happened. It’s very much in the early stages, but I feel strongly that when you know, you just know. And this time, I know. For the purposes of this blog, I shall refer to this someone as Prince.

I’ll start by saying that I knew I liked him before we met. I can’t remember enjoying talking with someone so much. Our conversation just flowed so effortlessly. God that man can talk for England LOL. My nickname for him is Teddy Ruxpin because he never shuts off. He was fun, engaging, and he told interesting stories in a somewhat swoon worthy South African accent. But after meeting him in person, I knew this man was going to be someone very special in my life. I was definitely attracted to him. He is 6’1, athletic (he played division 1 hockey and polo on a professional level), and he has such a boyish, youthful face. The only give away to his age is the color of his hair. He held my hand and made a lot of physical contact with me in a way that was affectionate but completely undemanding. In fact, we didn’t kiss that night. He was a true gentleman. After that night he asked me if I believed at love at first sight. I never thought I would believe in something so ridiculous… until now.

We are very much alike, despite coming from very different backgrounds. His is one of privilege. He went to the same boarding school as JFK and Ivanka Trump. He was raised by au pairs, not parents, and every activity he was involved in was calculated to make him a success. All he knew was about performing. At ten he already spoke three languages. So what could hippie dippie unicorn riding Caroline possibly have in common with such a man? Well, despite our very different lives, we somehow think the same thoughts, react the same way, and share the same kind of crazy (the batshit variety… let’s call it like it is, shall we?). He has a very soft heart that he only allows only me to see me. He is a well respected equine surgeon and when one of his horses has to be put down, it’s me that he lets wipe his tears.

He is a romantic. He sends me the most beautiful texts. He devotes so much of his time to me— which is absolutely unheard of in my experiences. I’m used to men who avoid communication at all costs. But we spend hours talking and texting throughout the day. Teddy Ruxpin, I tell you, always on… even when I’m ready to close my eyes, especially when I’m ready to close my eyes, and sometimes when my eyes are closed! I love it how he makes me feel like I’m part of something bigger. He has talked about me to his mom, and I have met his dad during a very vulnerable time (Prince’s dad has stage 4 cancer). That he’s incorporated me into his life like this, it makes me feel safe. It makes me feel like I’m not going to be tossed away without a care, as I’ve experienced in the past.

I’d like to think that now will begin the next stages of this blog, in which I no longer write about my shitty encounters with men children. It may have been funny, but it wasn’t fun. It was lonely and disheartening. I hope the next part of my blog is about my adventures with Prince, and relearning what it feels like to love and be loved.

Today is our one month anniversary. Yeah, its not huge, but for me it’s a major milestone. We’ve had a couple hiccups in that time, I won’t lie, but I am unfazed. I don’t want Prince to be perfect. I want him to be human and flawed, just like I am. What matters, when you boil things down to its true essence, despite any roadblocks, Prince is still here. He hasn’t let go of my hand. Consistency. Friendship. Love. It’s everything I wanted. Not perfection, but happiness.